Cleaning Up
by denise1
Summary: After being trapped off world for a week, all the members of SG-1 want to clean up...And yes, the kids are getting nekkid, although not explicitly
1. The Art of Bathing

The Art of Bathing

By

Denise

Teal'c walked through the high grass, a copse of trees lining a small stream pointing out to him his destination. Further upstream he knew his teammates were otherwise occupied, which was why he'd chosen this time for his mission. He'd discovered this location on their first day of exile on this planet and had shared its discovery with Major Carter and O'Neill. Both of them had seemed less than duly impressed.

Arriving at his destination, he paused and smiled, taking a moment to look around. He was standing at the edge of a small, shallow pool. There were no trees surrounding the pool as they did the remainder of the stream, which kept it fully exposed to the warming rays of the sun. Large smooth stones made the pool's bottom under the crystal clear water. It was a perfect bathing pool.

Sitting on a large rock, he took off his boots and socks, sighing as his feet were exposed to the warm air. He took off his shirt, wrinkling his nose disdainfully at the stains. Lacking any real soap he knew he wouldn't be able to get it totally clean, but he could at least make an attempt.

Standing up, he took off his pants and padded to the edge of the stream, his toes digging into the soft warm sand as he walked. It caressed the soles of his feet, massaging them.  He reached the edge of the pool and submerged the pants and shirt, anchoring them with a large rock. He swished his socks in the water, rubbing them between his hands. He wrung out the excess water and than laid them across a few clutches of thick grass to dry. He followed suit with his pants and shirt laying them across a sun warmed rock.

His laundry done, he waded into the pool, sitting down in the water. It ran across his skin like cool, soft, silk.

He stuck his fingers between two of the rocks and brought up a handful of smooth sand. He pulled his leg towards him and spread the sand on his foot. Using both hands he gently rubbed the sand across his skin, using it to scrub away the accumulated dirt and grime. He spread the sand from his toes all the way up to his thighs, massaging the grit into his skin.

He lowered his left leg and raised his right, repeating the procedure. He lowered his right leg, watching as the slight current in the pool carried the sand away, softly swirling it back down between the rocks from whence he'd taken it.

He reached down and dug up another handful of sand, smearing it across his chest. He rubbed the sand across his large pectoral muscles, dipping into his armpits, forcing the sand through the sparse hair there.

He missed Drey'ac's soap. His wife used to make soft, sweet smelling soap, far, far different from the heavily perfumed hard bricks the Tau'ri preferred. He remembered digging his fingers into the bowl of soap, letting it squish through his hand as he rubbed it across his body. The soap was always warm. The bowl was wooden and they could float it in the large tub. Many times after returning from a mission of Apophis', Drey'ac would bathe him, her small soft fingers rubbing her homemade soap into his skin, removing the blood, sweat and shame of what he'd done in the name of a false god. When he smelled the faint woodsy aroma of her soap he knew he was home.

Finished scrubbing, he cupped his hands, scooping up water and splashing it across his chest, rinsing off the sand. He raised his hand again, this time pouring the water back into the pool, watching as it sparkled like liquid diamonds in the sunlight. He laid back and let the current finish cleansing him.

He stood up and pulled off his briefs, taking a moment to rinse them in the water. Naked, he waded back to the shore, laying the briefs along side his socks to dry in the sun.

Feeling the cool breeze on his skin, he sank down on one of the rocks. He lay back, feeling the sun's warmth sinking into his skin. He closed his eyes and relaxed, listening to the sounds of the planet.

He could hear the whisper of the breeze through the grass; the faint whish as the blades rubbed against each other. Small flying insects buzzed around him, filling the air with a waxing and waning of music. The stream gurgled and bubbled as it made its way over the rocks. All the sounds combined to create a constant background noise, something that was always there but never really noticed. Like a person's heartbeat or breathing. Every planet he'd ever been on had a different sound, a different key of music. It was like a person's fingerprint, every one was similar but distinct at the same time.

He felt himself sinking deeper and deeper until he reached that place just next to actually falling asleep. He couldn't feel his body anymore. He knew if he moved a muscle he would feel it, but not right now. The only thing he could feel was the slow movement of air in and out of his lungs. He could smell the sweet aroma of the hot grass, taste it on his tongue.

He could feel his heart beat and in his mind's eye he could see the blood flowing through his veins, nourishing the body he couldn't feel. He felt his breathing slow as he floated free from his body. Looking down he could see himself stretched out on the rock, surrounded by waving golden grass. The sun made the stream look like a ribbon of crystal bisecting the planet. He could see the tiny forms of O'Neill trying to catch a fish while Major Carter sunned herself on a nearby rock, apparently enjoying the meager entertainment the planet offered.

He flew higher and higher, leaving his friends behind as he soared over the nearby mountains. The air was cold and crisp as it flowed across his skin. It invigorated and rejuvenated him, making his flesh tingle. Snow crystals formed filling the air with miniature prisms. He flew higher, punching through a cloud reveling in the soft resistance against him. He was free. Nothing had hold over him, not even gravity.

His spirit soared higher and higher, the thinning atmosphere lessening his resistance as he flew towards the stars.

The sky morphed from blue to black, wrapping around him like soft diamond studded velvet. The universe reached out and surrounded him, guarding him from all that was evil. He surrendered to it, no longer flying but floating. It was like being back in the womb, floating in a warm protecting fluid, safe and loved.

A cold drop hit his face and he shook his head. "Yo, Teal'c?" A voice shattered his illusion and Teal'c opened his eyes to see the face of O'Neill hovering over him. "Comfy?" the man asked, moving back.

Teal'c sat up surprised to see that several hours had passed and the warm sun was now low on the horizon.

"Glad I didn't send Carter to come get you," he quipped, handing Teal'c his briefs. "Although it would be fun to razz her about it."

"For what reason did you disturb me?" Teal'c asked, standing up and pulling on the now dry briefs.

"It's getting late, and Carter wants to try the gate one more time before we get some sleep." Teal'c nodded and walked over to the rest of his clothes, quickly putting them on.

"I was under the impression that we had already attempted to contact Earth once today."

"Yeah, she wants to do it again. Personally I think she's just trying to get out of gathering wood since it's her turn tonight but…what else do we have to do?"

Finished tying his bootlaces, Teal'c stood up, wrinkling his nose at the odor emanating from the man. "If we are not successful in contacting Earth, perhaps you should avail yourself of the pool tomorrow," he suggested.

Jack shook his head. "I'm too old to be skinny dipping. Besides, the last time I did I got bit on my…"

"What's taking you guys so long?" Sam asked, walking towards them. "We're about out of light."

"Hold your horses, Carter. We're coming. What makes you so sure the gate's gonna work this time anyway?" Jack complained as they started back to the campsite.

"It's just a feeling, sir," she said evasively. "Besides I can't wait to get home. Hot food…showers," she said pointedly, taking a large step away from him.

"Excuse me?" Jack asked. "What was that?"

"Nothing, sir. Nothing." She started to hurry away from him, taking big steps as she walked backwards.

"Oh yeah." He stalked towards her. "I think you meant something."

"I…Last one to the gate has to cook dinner," she quipped, turning and running for the gate.

"No, no, no. You're not getting out of it that easily." He chased after her as Teal'c watched. The Jaffa shook his head and trailed after the duo. It would be for the best if the stargate was operational, or it was going to be a very long night.

Fin


	2. Where's the Fanfare?

Sequel to 'The Art of Bathing'…it's Jack's turn to get clean. Enjoy Bev

Where's the Fanfare?

By

Denise

"Be sure to clean it, we were a little…short on supplies," Jack told the Sargent, handing the man his rifle, frowning a bit at the look on the man's face.

"Yes, sir." The Sargent took a quick step back, bumping into one of the many technicians that always seem to hang out in the gateroom. One of these days Jack really needed to find out what they were doing.

He heard a snigger and turned to see Carter doing the same, an amused look on her face. "Carter? What's so funny?"

"Nothing, sir, nothing at all." She handed her weapon over and headed for the large door.

"Aahah, right." Jack hurried to catch up with her, frowning a bit as the personnel in the halls scurried out of their way. She strode purposefully down the corridor, reaching into her pocket to pull out her passkey to call the elevator. The door pinged as it opened and she stepped in, followed by Jack and Teal'c. She pushed the button for level 21 and leaned against the wall, bringing her hand up to her face and coughing a bit.

She frowned as the door opened at level 21 and Jack followed her and Teal'c towards the infirmary. "Aah, sir. I thought you were headed towards the showers?"

Jack shrugged. "Might as well get Fraiser out of the way, then I can shower in peace."

"Are you sure that is wise, O'Neill?" Jack shot him a look. "Doctor Fraiser can be most formidable."

"Formidable, schmidable. I got her right here." Jack held up his grubby right hand, frowning at Sam's sudden coughing fit.

"I heard you were back," Janet said, smiling at her friends as they strolled into the infirmary. She looked them up and down carefully. "All in once piece I guess?"

"I think Carter broke a nail but other than that, nothing happened," Jack said, hopping up on one of the beds. "We're just here to get the requisite shots in our butts so we can go get some hot  food and a shower."

Janet stepped forward, pulling her stethoscope from around her neck. She got near him, then paused and made a face, taking a big step back. "You know, sir. I can really only examine one of you at a time. Why don't you go hit the showers and I'll start with Sam."

"Awe come on Doc. I finish here, I can take a nice long shower without holding you up."

"I appreciate your consideration of my schedule but…I'll survive. Shower, Colonel. Now," she said making shooing motions with her hands.

"I have often said that Doctor Fraiser is most wise in such matters," Teal'c said smugly crossing his arms across his chest.

"This sucks," Jack complained, jumping off the bed. "Save the world and not only do we not get any fanfare, I get insulted as well." He frumped out of the infirmary ignoring the faint laugher that followed him.

He made a beeline for the locker room. She wanted him to shower huh? He would SO shower.

Stomping into the locker room, he threw the lock on the door. He shucked his vest as he walked, tossing it in front of his locker. He'd clean out the pockets and send it down to the laundry later. He sat down, his fingers fumbling with the ties on his boots. He placed his heel against the toe of his other foot and pulled, using his foot to pry the heavy leather boot off. Repeating the procedure with the other foot he kicked the boots aside not noticing the tiny clumps of dirt that fell out of the tread.

He bent over and snagged his fingers into the cuff of his socks, pulling them off inside out. They were tossed in a separate pile from his boots and he wrinkled his nose a bit. Ok…he had to admit…his feet stank.

He crossed his arms across his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt. He pulled it off, tossing it atop the socks.

He stood up, feeling goosebumps rise as the cool air from the vent slid across his bare back. He unbuttoned his khaki's, grimacing at the stains on them. They were ruined. Why couldn't Thor ever snag him when he was wearing nice replaceable fatigues? He kicked them over to where his shirt was lying and slid his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, smoothly sliding them down his legs.

His toes curling against the cool tile floor, he reached for his towel and shampoo. He picked up the bottle and shook it. Empty. Damn. He had been going to bring some more from home before Thor'd struck. Shrugging, he grabbed his shower kit and crossed the small room to Daniel's locker. He grabbed the man's shower gel and net scrubby, smiling as he read the label. "Ocean Breeze. Sweet, Daniel."

He walked into the showers, his bare feet gently slapping the tiles. Hanging his towel safely out of the way, he set his kit on the small shelf and turned on the water, cursing as cold spray hit his chest. He adjusted the temperature, sighing as the water quickly warmed and steam wafted into the air.

He ducked his head under the spray, closing his eyes as hot water streamed down his neck and chest. He turned his face up and opened his mouth, gurgling the water. Spitting it out, he wiped the water out of his eyes and reached for Daniel's gel and scrubby. Squirting a generous amount onto the royal blue netting, he rubbed it between his hands, breathing in deep as a clean, slightly tangy scent wafted into the air.

Turning his back to the spray, he grabbed the scrubby in his right hand and scrubbed his left hand and arm, dipping into his armpit and rubbing vigorously. He scrubbed it across his chest then switched hands, scrubbing his right arm next.

He bent over, moaning in pleasure as the hot spray caressed his lower back and he scrubbed his legs running his fingers through the sparse, coarse hair there. Turning around he twisted his arms and tried to scrub his back, sighing as he imagined the layers of sweat and grime being washed from his skin. Using the suction cup on the scrubby, he stuck it to the wall and grabbed the gel again, squirting another portion into his hand. He stuck his hand between his legs gently shampooing the hair there. Bringing up his hand, he rinsed it off in the spray then reached for his kit.

Nimble fingers found his can of foam and he sprayed some of it into his palm. He then rolled the soft airy substance between his fingers before he smeared it on his face. He rinsed the shaving foam off his hands and pulled his razor out of the bag. Flipping the safety guard back, he quickly shaved, carefully removing the stubble from the last several days. He ran his hand over his now smooth cheeks, sighing in relief. It felt good to remove the irritating stubble. It'd driven him so nuts that he'd tried to do the old 'blade of the knife' trick on their third day…and nearly beheaded himself. Given the choice between itching and bleeding to death, he decided to itch.

He set the razor aside and grabbed the bottle of shower gel again, this time squirting it directly on top of his head. He snapped the lid shut and brought both of his hands up, massaging his scalp with his fingertips, grimacing as they encountered the occasional bit of grit or sand.

Finished scrubbing, he dunked his head under the water and watched as fluffy white bubbles ran off his legs and swirled down the drain. Hot water…one of the best things about civilization, hot steaming water.  Rubbing his hand through his hair to make sure he'd rinsed out all the soap he leaned back swiping the extra water off his face. He took a step back to make sure the spray hit him in the groin. He casually scrubbed; insuring all the soap was rinsed from the hair there. Nothing was worse than missing some soap and getting that irritating soap induced itch, especially in a place where it could get him arrested to scratch, or at least a few dirty looks.

He turned under the water again, making sure he was totally soap free. He stood there, bracing his hands against he wall and let his muscles relax. For the first time in over a week he could truly relax. All the worst case scenarios he'd run through his head hadn't come to pass. The replicators were evidetally gone, Earth was safe, his people were safe. Daniel had recovered from his surgery. Damn, what if Thor had grabbed him last week? If Daniel had been with them and  his appendix had burst off world, would they have been able to find help fast enough? What if Carter or Teal'c had been hurt on the Biliskner? Or on the planet. There had been no nasty predators there or angry natives but they really hadn't known that at the time. The planet had been uninhabited when it'd last been surveyed but that didn't mean anything. The first time they went to the Tollan home world everythign had been fine, and they'd gone through the gate to a front row seat at Pompeii reenacted. All in all, they'd been lucky, so very, very lucky.

He then reluctantly turned off the faucet, fighting the temptation to stand there for another thirty minutes or so. He shook his head and padded over to snag his towel. Rubbing the worst of the moisture out of his hair he gave his chest a cursory swipe with the towel rubbing the soft terry cloth over his skin. Drying his arm he casually made a fist and tensed his biceps. Not too damned bad for a forty year old colonel with a few too many miles on his knees. He knew a few of the wet behind the ears SF's on the base who couldn't match him. Rubbing the towel over his stomach he frowned a little and pinched his middle. Mmmhm, guess he'd been having a few too many pizza nights. More crunches, definitely needed more crunches.

Rubbing the towel between his legs he made his way to his locker, drying off his butt before he sat down. He dried off his legs, tossing the towel down on the floor so he could dry his feet. He reached into the locker and pulled out a clean pair of briefs, standing up to pull them on over his muscular legs. That was one good thing about the job, if the aliens weren't poking you fulla holes, all the walking did wonders for his legs and butt. He grabbed a pair of clean fatigues and pulled them on, privately enjoying the feeling of clean clothing. The greatest invention of the modern world…laundry soap.

Sitting back down he pulled his deodorant out of his locker and took the cap off, smearing some under each arm. And deodorant. Great stuff. Yes, he hadn't exactly been a bed of roses but neither had Carter or Teal'c. There were a few times in the last couple of nights when the wind had shifted and he'd suddenly needed to breathe through his nose. Not that he'd ever tell either of them that.

Digging out a T-shirt he pulled it over his head, running his fingers through his short hair. He needed a trim. He picked up clean socks, lifting one foot to the bench to slide them on. He paused and inspected his toes. Needed to do something about those toenails before they wrecked his socks. He put on his shoes and tossed his towel on top of his filthy clothes.

He sighed deeply and frowned into the mirror, ruffling his hair with his fingers. Yep, definitely needed a haircut. He was starting to skirt the edge of regulations, not that Hammond would ever bust him on it. He picked up his fatigue shirt, sliding it on as he walked towards the door. He'd just go debrief Hammond, and if he played his cards right, cash in a few 'we saved the world' points and ask the man for a week off. Seven glorious days of fishing, sleeping, drinking, sleeping, fishing, and more sleeping.

Opening the door, he stopped short at the sight of a mildly annoyed Carter, leaning against the far wall, her boot tapping gently on the cement floor. "Carter? I thought you were in medical?"

"Janet cleared me half an hour ago. She's waiting for you, sir," she said, pushing herself upright.

"Oh, right. Sorry," he apologized.

"That's all right, sir, I just hope you saved me some hot water." She brushed past him slipping into the locker room and locking the door.

Jack shook his head and turned on his heel, headed towards the general's office. "Colonel O'Neill, there you are." He turned to see Janet headed his way. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me or something."

"Doc, would I do that?"

"No, colonel. I know you wouldn't dream of it," she said, smiling.

"Hammond wanted me to fill him in…"

"After you clear medical," she interrupted.

"Doc, you've seen Carter and Teal'c. If there was anything on the planet to catch, they woulda caught it."

"Colonel, more excuses equals more needles," she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Aah, medical. Right, of course. Lead the way doc." No respect. He got absolutely no respect. Save the world and all you get for your valiant efforts was a needle in the butt. Ah well, at least it was a clean butt.

Fin


	3. Soaking and Thinking

Soaking and Thinking

By

Denise

Sam locked the door behind her and leaned against it, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. Finally. She thought the colonel would never get done. As near as she could determine, he'd hogged the showers for the better part of an hour. Of course, he'd never admit it.

She didn't mind sharing the lockers, especially since the guys usually were exceedingly considerate, most of the time. Then there were those days when she wanted nothing more than to have her own private bathroom. Maybe if she saved the world a few more times she could talk the general out of…nah. Shaking her head she crossed the room, unbuttoning her fatigue shirt as she went, frowning at the sight of the pile of filthy clothes in front of the colonel's locker. "Your mama don't work here, sir," she muttered, sliding the heavy shirt off. She laid it on the bench and sat down, bending over to take off her boots. Why couldn't they ever wear tennis shoes? Yeah, they were impractical for tramping through the mud but…it would be so much nicer here on base than the heavy clunky boots she had to wear.

She tossed them in the bottom of her large open locker, making a mental note to take them home and give them a polish. She slid off her socks, laying them atop her shirt. She stood up and unbuttoned her pants, gratefully sliding them down her legs. God, they were dirty. Then again, clothes tend to get that way when you wear them for nine days straight. "My tax dollars at work," she muttered, tossing them aside. They'd either come clean enough to be worn again, or she could save them for the next time she worked on her bike.

Pulling off her T-shirt, she wrinkled her nose at the smell of gunpowder. It had permeated all of their clothing. That was one thing about beaming to where the gate was that still stuck in her mind, the almost overwhelming odor of gunpowder. The air had been blue with it, a thick smoke that added to the air of unreality.

She pulled her dog tags from around her neck, hanging them on a hook. They clanked against the locker wall and the clicking sounds made her skin crawl. That's exactly what those bugs had sounded like. Thousands and thousands of little feet clacking away in the walls. The little mechanical whines and groans as they systematically ate the ship from around them, in some places just inches away from the deadly vacuum of space.

Fighting a sudden shiver, she quickly slid off her bra and panties, wrapping her towel around her middle and tucking it in as a makeshift sarong. There were no replicators here, no bugs that weren't easily squashable. The walls weren't crawling with single-minded automatons bent on taking over the planet. Shaking her head, she reached for her shampoo and shower gel, cursing under her breath as her hands came up empty. It was in her lab. She's bought more on her way here…ten days ago, and never gotten the chance to bring it down. Taking a quick glance at her state of undress she shrugged. She was not going out dressed like this, and there was no way in hell she'd put those clothes back on.

Grinning evilly, she turned and walked to the colonel's locker. She'd just borrow some of his. He'd never know the difference. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo and shower gel than frowned. Lifting her arm she peeked at her armpit and made a face. Uggh. Now that was gross.

She reached for his shaving kit, then changed her mind. The last time she'd borrowed his razor she'd almost needed stitches. Clutching the two bottles in one arm she made her way to Daniel's locker. His razor however, was one of those fancy expensive kinds with the aloe strips.

Carrying her booty, she padded into the shower room. The air was still steamy from the colonel's extended shower. However, a shower wasn't quite what she had in mind. Setting the bottles down, she turned on the tap to the large stainless steel tub, smiling as water began to swirl in. The best thing about the SGC was right here, one of the few bases she'd served on that had a bathtub. Yes, technically it was a therapeutic whirlpool meant for easing stressed and strained muscles…but as far as she was concerned, it was the penultimate bathtub.

As the water filled, she picked up the shampoo and crossed to the showers, figuring she might as well make use of the time. Hanging her towel on a hook, she turned the shower on, quickly adjusting the temperature as hot as she could stand. She moved under the spray, turning her face up and closing her eyes. She brought her hands up and smoothed her hair back as the water streamed down her body. She stood there for a second, soaking up the warmth, then sluiced the water off her face and reaching for the bottle of shampoo.

She squirted a generous quantity into her palm and massaged it into her hair. She worked it up to a lather then stood under the spray, rinsing the bubbles out. She grabbed the shampoo, squeezing another glob into her hand and worked it through her hair, this time taking her time. She dug her fingernails in, lightly scratching her scalp. She groaned in pleasure as she maneuvered her fingers through the clingy strands. She'd dreamed of washing her hair, even more than taking a bath. Casting a glance at the tub and seeing that it was more than half full, she hurriedly rinsed her hair, grinning as it squeaked.

She turned off the shower and snagged a scrubby that was hanging on the wall. That's what she couldn't find in Daniel's locker. She set the scrubby down by the side of the tub and turned off the tap. She climbed the steps and slowly sank into the hot water, unable to suppress a moan of pleasure. She slowly stretched out, savoring the sensations of the water swirling around her body. She closed her eyes and lay back, feeling the warmth sink into her muscles. God, it felt good to relax. Not that the last nine days had been incredibly stressful or anything, but it was nice to be back around all the great modern conveniences she was used to. Like electricity, food that they didn't have to kill, salt and pepper to make that food more palatable, toilet paper, chocolate, toothpaste, refrigerators…and hot running water.

Realizing that she wouldn't be able to stay in the tub forever, she sat up, reaching for the scrubby and gel. Squeezing an ample portion onto the ball of blue netting she worked it into a rich lather, breathing deep to sample the scent. It smelled like salt and fresh air. And a nice change from the vanilla scent Daniel usually preferred. She brought one leg out of the water and used the scrubby to methodically cleanse it. Squinting, she set down the scrubby and ran her fingers over her legs. Shuddering, she reached for Daniel's razor and efficiently shaved her leg, making a face at the hair-studded foam that she knocked into the water.

She exchanged the razor for the scrubby and lathered up her other leg. Shaving it as well, she turned the razor to her armpits. Thank God she hadn't been wearing a tank top or she could have given Teal'c a run for his money.

She swished the razor in the water to clean the blades and swapped it for the scrubby again. She scrubbed her arms, chest and face, twisting around a bit to get her back. Satisfied that she was at least presentably clean, she splashed off the lather and rinsed out the scrubby, sticking it to the outside of the tub. She reached back and flipped on the switch that activated the jets, transforming her bathtub into a nice government issue hot tub.

She closed her eyes and leaned back, tuning out all but the sounds of the water. She could feel the jets of water massaging her legs, the pressure making them float towards the surface.  She sighed, taking the warm moist air deep into her lungs. Her bath salts, that's what was missing. The scented salts she put into the bathtub each night when she was at home. She'd found only one place to get them, the yearly Renaissance Festival. She'd stumbled across the stall a few years ago when she'd first returned to Colorado Springs.  She'd gotten so hooked on them that she attended the festival each year, mainly to stock up on as many pounds of the stuff that she could carry. She didn't have only one scent, but a variety. Something for each mood.

The Celtic Mystery scent was the one she used when she needed a pick up, the fresh aroma serving to awaken her senses. The Heather kind was what she used at 0200 when insomnia struck and she needed to relax. And the Rose, that's what she used on those days when she wanted to be reminded that she wasn't one of the guys.

Her teammates were good; she had to admit that. They all knew how to skate that fine line between respecting her privacy without excluding her from things, maybe it was because they'd all been married. They accepted that there were times when she just couldn't compete with them, especially in the strength area, but they didn't resent the fact, they just came up with ways to accommodate their differences.  It didn't matter that she couldn't bench press as much as Teal'c, as long as she could fix the DHD when needed.

She felt comfortable with these guys; more comfortable than she had with anyone else she'd served with. The colonel may hide behind sarcastic one liners, but she knew that the respect she felt for him was mutual. The same was true of Teal'c. She owed him a debt she didn't think she could ever repay. After Jolinar, he'd been one of the first of her friends to talk about what had happened and offer to help her understand it all.

She'd felt so isolated then, not just reeling from what had happened but aware that it had effected the others as well. For a short period of time, she'd become everything the colonel hated. For a while she'd been afraid that his hatred of the goa'uld had extended to her. And for Daniel…she was a living reminder of what Shau'ri was going through. Teal'c was the only one who'd heard of the Tok'ra, and the only one to encourage her to explore those memories instead of burying them. For better or worse, that exploration had led them to the Tok'ra and saved her dad's life.

Once they'd gotten over the tenseness, she and Daniel had talked, truly, honestly talked. He had been almost desperate for knowledge of what it'd been like to be blended. He'd accepted her for what she was without judging her for what she'd become.

Janet was one of the best friends she'd ever had, their relationship with Cassie giving them a unique common ground. When the doctor had first adopted the little girl, she'd been afraid the relationship would be tense. It was hard enough becoming a mother to a teenage girl overnight, without the added stress of a secondary mother figure in the picture. Sam had been prepared to keep her distance…but hadn't needed to. Janet welcomed the help and even encouraged the friendship between her and Cassie to grow.

General Hammond was one of the best base commanders she'd ever served under. No matter how harrowing the mission, the second she heard 'welcome home SG-1' in that drawl of his, she knew she was home.

People teased her about spending so much time at the mountain. She had a nice house, why didn't she go there and spend some time. Maybe find herself a guy. What they didn't realize was that when she was at the mountain, she WAS home. True, it was a little tighter on the home security front than normal but…it was home to her.

She was doing things that other astrophysicists only dream of. They could sit at their computers and work on simulated models; she got to go play on alien planets.  It did sorta suck not to be able to tell anyone what she knew, like when Hailey thought the wormhole went both ways, but considering the trade off was to be one of the first people from Earth to set foot on a planet that existed only in theory, it was worth it.

Not only did she have the best toys, but she got to hang around with three fantastic older brothers, a woman that was like the sister she'd never had and a leader who might look gruff but she knew to be a marshmallow inside. The base wasn't just work, it was home. Oddly enough, she felt safe here. It really didn't have anything to do with the squadron of Marines at the front gate but more to do with who else was here with her.  She trusted these guys implicitly. She knew they'd give their lives to keep her safe, just like she would for them.

A knock on the door startled her and she jerked upright in the tub, splashing water over the edge. "Major Carter, are you in there?" She heard Sargent Siler call.

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs she realized that she'd nearly dozed off in the tub. "Sargent, is something wrong?" She called, turning off the jets of water.

"Major Davis called, they retrieved some replicator tiles from the crash site and he's sending them over. He thought you'd like to have a look at them," she heard, his voice muffled through the locked door.

They'd gotten some replicator pieces? Wow. Her mind began to race. If they could figure out how the individual pieces worked and attained cohesion, then maybe they could find a way to disrupt that cohesion. And since the tiles were harmless when they were separated from the rest…maybe they could figure out how to destroy them once and for all.

"Yeah, definitely. I'll be right out, Sargent," she yelled, reaching down to pull the plug on the tub. She grabbed her towel and quickly dried off as she hurried back to the locker room. Pulling a clean set of underwear out of the locker she slid them on, followed by her fatigues. Grimacing as her wet hair dampened her collar she reached for the towel. Realizing that hers was too wet to adequately dry her hair, she crossed to Daniel's locker and borrowed his. It was just water after all, nice clean water off nice clean hair.

She tossed the towel aside, running a comb through her hair. "My mama don't work her either," she muttered, frowning at the piles of dirty clothes. She should straighten things up a bit.

"Major, he's here," Siler called, knocking on the locker room door.

Eager to study the replicators, and having no idea how long she'd be able to keep them before Area 51 demanded they be sent there, she hurriedly tossed Daniel's towel into the bottom of his locker and left the room. She'd just take a break and clean up in a little while.

Fin


	4. Adapting

Adapting

By

Denise

Daniel tiredly trudged through the halls of the SGC, fighting not to limp as his barely healed incision protested its treatment of the last couple of days. He had a funny idea that a round trip to California was not on Janet's list of approved activities.

Right now he was sore, mentally exhausted, and in dire need of a bath. And the worst part of it all, he was stuck here on base until they debriefed, in about six hours. Which meant that going home was out of the question. Jack, Sam and Teal'c had already headed to the commissary to get something to eat, their need for hot food overriding their exhaustion. Daniel was in no mood for food, his appetite having yet to return after his surgery.

And since he couldn't go home to take a bath, he'd simply grab one here and then crash for a few hours. He walked into the locker room, absently running his fingers through his hair. He crossed the room to his locker, unbuttoning the heavy outer shirt as he went. He checked the shirt and pants pockets, tossing the meager contents onto the bench. The small handful of coins rattled and a couple of them rolled onto the floor.

Muttering a few choice curses, he eased himself down to his knees and searched for the money. Stretching out his hand to retrieve a quarter he paused as a memory washed over him. Jack sprawled on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. 'Daniel, please move your ass before I get eaten alive by the goddamned bugs!'

That's what he remembered most. Jack had been afraid. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen fear in Jack O'Neill's eyes in the last four years. That was what made him give the order. If Jack was afraid enough to beg, it had to be bad.

Thank God for Thor. If he hadn't come when he did…Daniel shook his head, banishing the thought. It hadn't happened that way. Jack and Teal'c were safe and alive and so was Sam. That's what mattered. Getting up, he sat back down, tossing the change into his locker. He bent over, struggling slightly with the bootlaces. Who came up with the idea of twenty odd grommets anyway? Kicking them off, he pulled off his socks, tossing them on the floor beside his fatigue shirt. He was going to have a lot of laundry considering it'd been nearly two weeks since he'd done it.

Laundry had been on his 'to do' list right before he'd gotten sick. In fact, there was still a rather large pile of soiled clothes lying in the middle of his bed. Jack had once teased him about owning two dozen pairs of underwear. His argument had been how many pairs of BVD's could he wear at once. His friend shut up the second Daniel told him that what it really meant was that he could go nearly a month between laundry loads. Which was a good thing, considering that in recent years there'd been more than once when he would not been able to get home for days or weeks at a time.

He carefully pulled his T-shirt over his head, deliberately moving slowly. That was one habit he'd picked up in the last couple of weeks, moving slowly. He knew he was lucky that they'd caught his appendix when they did. He'd been just a few hours away from shipping out when he'd started feeling so sick. The 'could have's' were scary, maybe because he'd had so much time to think about it when he'd been lying in that bed. He'd been just a few hours away from being millions of light years from help. Sam was a good medic but…there was no way he'd have survived nine days off world.

Maybe what made it worse this time was that his own body had almost killed him. It hadn't been a staff weapon or alien virus; there wasn't anything he could blame but himself, literally.

He stood up and slid off his pants and briefs, his fingers straying over the red ridge of the incision. Janet had promised him that in a few years it'd barely be visible. It was odd; someone had actually had their hands INSIDE his body. It was a weird concept, knowing that someone had touched him in a place he couldn't even touch himself, they'd seen a part of his body that he'd never see. It was…almost like a violation. He knew they'd only done it to save his life and he certainly had NO problem with that at all but…it was still weird.

Sort of like the first time Sam had explained what truly happened to their bodies every time they went through the gate. They were dematerialized. The gate somehow tore them apart atom by atom then put them back together on the other end.

How'd it keep them straight? All the trips they'd made and the gate had never given him Sam's hair or Teal'c's tattoo. The whole thing was utterly mind-boggling. Now if the Ancients had really been doing things right the gate could have just…fixed his appendix then he'd never have gotten sick and could have went with the others instead of staying behind.

He'd felt so…lonely in the infirmary. It wasn't just having to be there, but knowing that they were somewhere in orbit, risking their lives and he couldn't do a thing to help.

It wasn't exactly the first time he'd not gone with them and he knew that they could all take care of themselves but…the other times he'd not gone because he had something important to do, like when they'd accidentally dialed up the black hole. He'd been off on a dig with SG-6. He hadn't even known anything was wrong until they couldn't dial Earth for two weeks, and even then they'd been so busy trying to find a solution, he really hadn't had time to think about what was going on.

But this time he'd had too much time to think. From the minute he'd pried it out of Janet he'd been nearly overwhelmed by a feeling of utter helplessness.

He was lucky that General Hammond was such an understanding man. He knew he had been pushing things by staying in the control room and he also knew that the man had meant it when he'd promised to keep Daniel apprised but he just couldn't leave. If he couldn't be with them, he could at least be as near them as possible.

It was the same reason he'd went to California with Jack and Teal'c. He was not going to be left behind this time.

He reached for his towel, frowning as his hand encountered an empty hook. He knew it'd been there before he left. A wadded up shape caught his eye and he reached down, picking his towel up from the     bottom of his locker. Maybe it'd fallen? That thought was almost immediately dismissed as an all too familiar odor ticked his nostrils, making him sneeze. Mildew.

His towel hadn't fallen; someone had used it then tossed it into the bottom of his locker.

Disgusted, he tossed the towel in with the rest of his dirty clothes and reached for his shaving towel. It was just a quarter the size of his usual towel but it was certainly better than nothing.

Next he reached for his shower gel and scrubby, frowning as he found a mostly empty bottle and a snagged scrubby. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Someone had been 'borrowing' his stuff again.

He held up the mostly empty bottle. The fluorescent lights glinted through the viscous turquoise gel. Or more likely, several someones. He knew this bottle had been brand new just a few days ago. Both it and the scrubby were a get-well gift from Janet. Something for him to look forward to, she'd said as Nurse Atkins had headed his way, the infamous basin and sponge in her hands.

It had to be Jack. The colonel was one of the worst mooches he'd ever seen. Making a mental note to give Jack hell, Daniel padded into the shower room. There was still enough gel for him to take his bath.

And it was a bath he'd been dreaming about for the past two weeks. Janet had given him permission to shower a few days ago but not to bathe, citing the risks of infection. Normally he had no problem with showers, but right now he was jet lagged. And nothing helped his jet lag like a nice relaxing bath.

He reached the tub and bent over, ready to turn on the tap. He paused and bent over further to get a closer look. "Gross," he muttered at the sight of several thousand little hairs coating the bottom of the tub.

Sam. She'd shaved her legs again and not rinsed down the tub. For a second he contemplated doing it himself, then he caught sight of the scum. She'd used bubbles too. But she didn't have any bubble bath on the base…He looked at the mostly empty bottle in his hand and sighed again. Back in the gateroom, right before she'd left with Thor, he'd stood right beside her and sweared he smelled the ocean. So Jack hadn't been the only moocher.

Feeling more than a little repulsed by the hairy tub, he abandoned the idea of a bath. The tub needed to be scrubbed and while he was usually willing to give anything a try, he drew the line at scrubbing any bathtub but his own.

A shower would be fine.

He crossed to the shower stalls and carefully hung up his towel on the provided hook. Setting the gel and scrubby on the ledge, he turned on the water, quickly adjusting it as hot as he could stand.

He stepped under the spray, turning his face into it. He groaned softly as the hot water streamed down his throat, chest and legs. Turning around, he let the spray hit him right between the shoulder blades, feeling it relax some of the tension there. It was a knot he'd felt building the second they lost contact with Jack and Teal'c.

He knew what he'd seen, but for a few minutes he'd been afraid that he'd imagined it.

He didn't completely believe it until Jack, Sam and Teal'c had appeared in a flash of light. They'd gotten all the bugs. Thor had seen to that. Everything had turned out ok, no thanks to him. He hadn't felt like so much of a fifth wheel for a long time.

They'd all gotten along just fine without him. They'd saved the world, then themselves, survived off world for over a week, then Sam had run off and saved a planet single-handedly, while Jack and Teal'c had killed mama bug and saved Earth…again. Twice in two weeks they'd saved Earth, and he hadn't lifted a finger.

Fighting a sudden wave of depression, he reached for his scrubby and squirted the last of his gel onto the dark blue netting. He rubbed the scrubby between his hands, working up a nice lather. Yeah, they'd gotten along without him, but it was because they'd had to, not that they wanted to. They'd had to adapt to the situation. And his friends certainly were adaptable. You had to be, to do what they did.

In just three years, Teal'c had adapted to life on Earth. Sam to having an alien's memories and abilities. Jack had adapted, not only to the loss of his family, but also to what they did. Mister 'I'll believe it when I see it' had certainly seen enough in the last few years to give his skepticism a good run for its money.

Daniel scrubbed his arms as he ruminated, moving the scrubby from his hands up over his biceps, across his chest and down the other arm. His friends weren't the only ones who'd adapted over the last few years; he'd changed too.

He no longer felt like the odd man out on base. He knew General Hammond had a lot to do with that in the beginning. The man had made it abundantly clear that civilians were to be treated with the same respect as the military personnel.

Over the last few years, he'd picked up enough of the terminology and behaviors to fit in, at least well enough to pass a cursory inspection. Fatigues no longer felt uncomfortable to him. In fact, if he ever went on another civilian dig, he was bringing fatigues. They were more comfortable and durable than some of the civilian stuff he'd worn.

He had changed physically too, he acknowledged, as he bent over to scrub his legs. His calf muscles were firm and well defined, as were his thighs. Years of walking and hiking on alien worlds had certainly added to his physique.

He was probably in better physical shape now than he had been in years. He rubbed the scrubby over his stomach and chest, his fingers encountering only smooth, firm flesh.

He hadn't only changed physically, but mentally as well. He's picked up new skills, not the least of which was the ability to read goa'uld, but also an understanding of strategy and the military mindset.

There were times when he certainly didn't agree with it, but he could understand it. And understanding it sometimes gave him the edge into finding a way around it. That understanding had also deepened his friendship with the rest of his team.

He had a better idea of how torn Teal'c had been for decades, having to do a duty he hated because he had no choice. Or how hard it was for Sam to set aside her desire to learn something when her duty as an Air Force officer came first.

He could appreciate the juggling act Jack had to do everyday. The man had to keep them in line, while allowing them to do their jobs. Keep them safe while not micro-managing them…and all the while he had to keep his standing orders and mission objectives in view. How Jack managed to keep all those balls in the air without dropping any was almost beyond Daniel's comprehension.

Finished scrubbing, he rinsed out the netting, hanging it on the wall to dry. He stood back under the spray and let it rinse the soap off his body, watching idly as the bubbles swirled around the drain.

With the soap, he let the water wash away all the doubts and uncertainties of the past couple of weeks. He was ok. His friends were ok. They hadn't died a horrible death careening through the atmosphere or drowned, trapped in the wreckage of the Biliskner. They'd survived, pulling another SG-1 miracle out of their hats.

Rinsed clean, he turned off the water, reaching for his towel. He dried off as best he could as he walked, the small towel pretty much inadequate for the task. He stepped into the locker room, distractedly drying his hair. He was glad he'd gotten his hair cut short a year ago. There was a definite convenience to not having to deal with long hair that took hours to dry.

"There you are." He looked up to see Janet standing just inside the door. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she had a mischievous look on her face. "Everybody's looking for you," she said.

He saw her eyes drop and he realized that the only item he had vaguely resembling clothing was nowhere near where it needed to be. In a flash, he dragged the wet towel from his head and held it in front of him, silently cursing whoever had left his towel wadded up in the bottom of his locker.

"Janet? What?" He could feel heat flooding his face. It was stupid, he knew. She'd certainly seen him naked before, although it was usually when he was unconscious or in too much pain to mind.

"Everyone's looking for you," she repeated, crossing to his locker and picking up a clean pair of briefs. "General Hammond decided that the debriefing could wait until tomorrow, so Colonel O'Neill, Sam, Teal'c and the general are all going out to dinner at O'Malleys, courtesy of Uncle Sam." She handed him the briefs and pointedly turned her back so he could slip them on.

"That's nice of the general," he said, gratefully putting on the briefs and walking to his locker. "What are they looking for me for?" He pulled out a pair of fatigue pants and sat down to put them on.

Janet pulled them out of his hands and traded them for a pair of khakis he also had in his locker. "So we can go. I'm invited too," she replied to his questioning look.

"I see you found him," Jack said, walking into the room trailed by Sam and Teal'c.

"I told you, Colonel. Daniel always takes a shower when he's jet lagged," Sam said, pulling an armful of clothes out of her locker. "If I had the time, I might do the same. Two galaxies and three planets in one day and my internal clock is all out of whack. Janet, we can save time if we change in your office," she suggested.

"That's a good idea," Janet responded, shooting Daniel an ornery grin. "Although the scenery here would certainly be entertaining."

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed. "I don't know, Janet. It's like being a security guard at the Lourve. If you look at Mona Lisa every day, eventually it's just a picture on the wall."

"Hey!" Jack protested.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Janet agreed, ignoring the colonel. "We'll meet you guys topside." The two women left, leaving the guys alone.

Daniel put on his pants and pulled a denim shirt out of his locker. He slid his loafers onto hie feet, then stood up, reaching for his wallet and keys. "What made the general change his mind?" he asked as Jack and Teal'c finished changing.

"Huh?" Jack asked, pulling his shirt on over his head.

"I thought the general was in a hurry to debrief," Daniel reminded, wiping his glasses off on his handkerchief and sliding them onto his face.

"General Hammond only desired a timely rendition of recent events in response to pressure from his superiors," Teal'c relayed pulling a ball cap from his locker and putting it on his head. "That pressure is now alleviated."

"How?"

"Seems once he beamed us down, Thor told the President we needed some time off," Jack said.

"He did what?"

"He popped his little gray butt smack dab in the middle of the Oval Office and told the President we needed some downtime," Jack said, smiling broadly. "You ready?" he asked, sliding on his jacket.

The three of them made their way to the surface, joining up with the general, Sam and Janet, also in casual clothes. They piled into a large SUV with Jack driving and the general riding shotgun. Sam and Teal'c sat in the middle seat leaving the back bench seat to Daniel and Janet. He listened to Sam trying to describe the taste of something Thor had given her to eat as the scenery sped by.

"You ok?" Janet asked quietly.

"What?" Daniel turned to face her.

"You've been quiet today. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine I just…"

She smiled. "You feel left out," she said. "They went off and had an adventure without you."

"How do you know?" he asked, surprised that she'd pegged his feelings so exactly.

"It's what I feel every time you go through that gate," she said. "Usually I'm busy enough the I can avoid thinking about it, but it's always in the back of my mind. And then you guys come back and…you talk about it, but no story you tell will ever measure up to actually being there, being a part of it all."

"How do you deal with it?" he asked. "With feeling left out and…not needed."

"You are needed," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "Just maybe not in the same way as before, so you adapt. You find new ways of being necessary. But even then…as much as Colonel O'Neill hates needles or as sick as Sam is of tests, they still trust me. And they still trust you. I know that even if my services aren't required on a daily basis, I'm still a part of the team."

"Yeah," he said dejectedly.

"You know, one day, one of them might get hurt badly enough not to be able to qualify for field duty. Even if that doesn't happen, eventually, the colonel's going to retire, so will the general. Sam…she's going to get her own command some day. Teal'c…he's only got a few more years left before we'll have to find him a new symbiote or he'll die. And you," she looked him in the eyes. "You know all you have to do is ask and the general would give you your own archaeological team, or at least make you the lead archaeological consultant."

"I know but…I don't want to leave SG-1. I like things the way they are. I don't want them to change."

"Neither do they." She nodded towards the other occupants of the car. "But…it's going to happen, eventually. The best thing you can do is enjoy it as long as you can."

"It made that stuff on the prison planet taste good," Sam proclaimed loudly

"What did you do, Major Carter?" Teal'c asked.

"What?"

"How did you react?"

"Oh…well…I…spit it out," Sam said, her face reddening.

"That doesn't sound like a very polite thing to do Carter," Jack said, pulling the SUV into a parking space.

"Maybe not, sir. But it was either that or hurl all over Thor's ship," she said, getting out of the vehicle.

"I remember when I was first stationed in Korea. I tried Kimchee," Hammond said.

"How was it, sir?" Jack asked, walking around the car.

"Fifty years later and I still won't touch cabbage," the man said leading the way into the restaurant. "How about you, Doctor Jackson? You must have eaten some delicacies over the years."

"General?"

"Daniel's eaten all sorts of stuff in the name of galactic peace," Jack teased. "And most of it tastes like chicken."

"At least what I've eaten hasn't turned me into a grouchy old man," he teased back trying to keep a straight face as the rest of the group sniggered.

"I was not grouchy," Jack protested as the six people fell into step with each other.

"Aah, yes, you were, sir," Sam said.

"Major Carter is correct. Your attitude was most…fragile."

"General?" Jack whined.

"Jack, you were a grump," Hammond said opening the door so the rest could proceed him into the restaurant. Daniel walked along, letting the familiar camaraderie and friendship ease his troubled mind. None of them were the same people they'd been when they'd first met. Some of the changes were for the better, some not. But throughout it all, one thing had remained constant. They'd all adapted to each other, each changing to accommodate another's strengths or weaknesses. And they'd continue to do so, no matter how one of them changed.

Fin

He


End file.
